


Take A Break

by Jay_eagle



Series: Fandot Creativity Night Fics [4]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, MJN Air Is A Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-28 06:37:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7628854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_eagle/pseuds/Jay_eagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a fandot creativity night prompt "take a break".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take A Break

 

Arthur was practicing walking quietly. It had been an instruction from his mum, one particularly elephantine descent of the stairs in order to take Snoopadoop out proving the final straw. “Arthur,” she’d sighed, “please – _please –_ do you think that you could stop imitating the cast of _STOMP_? Maybe?”

 

Arthur always aimed to please. Even if Martin had forced him to stop padding around the portacabin in his stockinged feet (socks were not professional, apparently) after a week’s practice Arthur felt that he could justifiably pat himself on the back. He’d definitely got better. The evidence – he’d managed to follow Douglas around the airfield for the last 10 minutes without him noticing. And Douglas was in a particularly grumpy mood today, too! Those were usually the days when the slightest thing was liable to get on his nerves.

 

Douglas hadn’t heard him! Arthur hugged himself with glee. Except that then, focused on Douglas rather than his own creeping behind him, Arthur realised something.

 

Douglas… was limping. He hadn’t been earlier – Arthur knew he hadn’t, because the second part of his efforts to walk more quietly had been to study people like Martin, and Mum, and Douglas, who seemed to move effortlessly without thundering on the floor. And Arthur had watched Douglas arrive, when he’d greeted them all with something _almost_ identical to his habitual insouciance.

 

But now… Douglas was definitely favouring his right leg, and as Arthur continued to match his footfalls, drawing closer with intrigue coursing through him, he spotted another unusual thing – Douglas was holding himself oddly. Shoulders up around his ears, almost, he looked as if he was catching his breath with each contact of his left foot with the tarmac.

 

“Douglas!” Flushed with discovery, Arthur forgot his stealth mission. “Douglas, what’s wrong?”

 

Douglas leapt almost into the air with shock, whirling to face Arthur, his attempt to smooth out the pained expression on his face not quite completing in time. “Wh – Arthur?” He caught at the wall, but then let go. “What’s the matter? Are you following me?”

 

“No,” Arthur lied, but then knew he’d gone tomato-coloured. He grabbed the nearby wall too, lest he fall over. “Um. Yes. A bit.”

 

“Why –“ Douglas began, but Arthur cut him off before he could continue.

 

“Your leg!” Arthur reached out, but at Douglas’ ferocious expression, he drew back. “You’re limping.”

 

“I’m not!”

 

Arthur frowned. “Then why were you walking oddly?”

 

“I wasn’t!” Douglas glared, but then sagged. “… Because I didn’t know anyone was watching.” He raised his eyebrows, as if daring Arthur to proceed.

 

Normally, Douglas’ eyebrows were enough to quell Arthur’s curiosity… but concern was too vivid in him for that. “Did you hurt your leg?”

 

Douglas sighed, and transferred all his weight to his good foot. “Yes,” he replied.

 

“How?”

 

Douglas chewed his lip. “Not a word to Martin,” he ordered.

 

“I promise.” Arthur crossed his heart.

 

“I… tried to go running. Before work.”

 

“And you fell over?”

 

“No.” Douglas winced. “Something went… funny. Mid-stride.”

 

“Not good funny, though.” Arthur squinted down at Douglas’ ankle. “It’s swollen.”

 

“It rather is, isn’t it?” Douglas looked unhappy. “It's hurting more and more... I was going to try and find a first aider.” He turned to try and walk on, but at the renewed pressure on his leg, he almost fell with a most-un-Douglas-like yelp.

 

Arthur dived to catch him, supporting Douglas’ weight with an arm around his shoulders. “This way.”

 

To Arthur’s surprise, Douglas complied, though that may have been because he had little choice in the matter, propelled by Arthur’s determination. “Where are we going?”

 

“My car.” Arthur walked them out of the exit-only gate to the car park.

 

“I see.” Douglas leant on the Fiat as Arthur fished his keys from his pockets. “Err… why?”

 

“Hospital,” Arthur said, simply, and it was a mark of the pain now creeping up Douglas’ whole leg that he made only cursory protests the whole way there.

 

* * *

 

 

“I get to be first to draw on it!” Arthur thanked his lucky stars that he always kept felt-tips in his desk.

 

Martin and Carolyn were examining the new cast on Douglas’ broken ankle. “I can’t believe you managed to do something so… imbecilic.” Carolyn’s acidity was underlain with concern.

 

“There is one plus, though!” Arthur stood up at the same time as Douglas, his favourite purple pen in hand. Douglas waved off the concern with an irritated huff, and clomped on crutches towards his desk.

 

Martin passed a weary hand over his hat. “What’s the plus, Arthur?”

 

Arthur beamed in Carolyn’s direction. “Well… Douglas is _just_ as noisy when he’s walking as me, now!”

 

The crutches were indeed loud, and Arthur’s grin grew. He chased after Douglas, waving the pen. “Come back!” He none-too-gently assisted Douglas into his desk chair, and bent over his cast, beaming. “We can be… the elephant twins!”

 

Douglas’ eyes widened. “Don’t you dare draw an elephant… Arthur. Arthur!”

 

Arthur sat back, smiling blissfully. “Too late!”


End file.
